Water Lily
by MHZutaraFanGirl
Summary: "Doubt though the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love." Upon first sight, Forks, Washington is perfectly normal, even quite dull, albeit a little odd. That is, until I happened upon the strange and unusual Cullen family, above all else Jasper Hale. After that, things only take a toll for the worst...or better. Jasper/OC
1. Proem - Silence

**_Proem_**

**_Silence_**

* * *

"_The rest, is silence_

~ William Shakespeare, _Hamlet_

* * *

Numb.

I am numb.

My head is aching, and my limbs feel tingly.

The world around me was fading into the black abyss, the corners of my eyes darkening.

I am falling over the edge, temptation lulling me away, but the throb in the back of my head pulls me back into cruel reality.

Something warm glides down my forehead, over my eye, and then my lips.

I am dimly aware of a sharp pain coursing through my veins, but as I am pulled away but the aggressive tide I find myself…uncaring.

There is nothing.

Nothing.

I am alone in the shadows of my own mind.

My ears are ringing like tiny bells.

My body is broken, and I cannot lift a hand to stop the bleeding somewhere along my temple, nor the various shattered bones that float painfully.

I feel like I am flying.

Where, I do not know…I am only aware of the pain that has taken its toll; it pulls me off the edge of eternal slumber as I long to plummet down into the abyss, if only to bring an end to the ceaseless burning sensation.

I see nothing but red, the warmth of the sun no longer touching my face as I seem to fall further into the darkness.

I try to open my mouth, to cry out, but there is nothing but the trickle of running water and a faint breeze rustling through the trees.

Somewhere in the vague fatigue I am in, my senses catch the slightest hint of lilies.

And then, without warning, all becomes silent.

Silence.

It consumed me whole, and I fall prey to its temptation.

Silence.

I fight lifelessly against it, but my mind was beginning to slow its pace.

Silence.

And then, with a final rattling breath, there nothing.

Nothing.

* * *

**Special thanks to Kiki for helping me write this proem; you are awesome for helping me with my horrific poetry! :D I hope you enjoyed this. Review about your thoughts, complaints, and whatnot! Thanks for reading. :) First chapter will be coming up soon.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Twilight". I do also not own the picture acting as the cover for this fanfiction. All royalties goes to the copyright owners.**


	2. Act 1 - Amber and Onyx

**_Act 1_**

**_Amber & Onyx_**

* * *

_"There hasn't been any art yet. Art is just beginning."_

~ Constantin Brancusi

* * *

"Shit, it's freezing," I muttered under my breath, staring out the car window with distaste. A cloudy puff floated in front of me before it wistfully vanished into the chilly air.

The leather seat felt like ice against my back and bum, slowly turning me into a living Popsicle. Rubbing my fish-net gloved hands together to gather heat, I glared viciously at the broken heater staring tauntingly back at me. It had been busted ever since my ten year old brother, Peter (commonly called Puck for his jester-like behavior), decided to take some of our older brother's, Tyblat, tools from the garage and use the car as his toy. Needless to say, our mother had a strange obsession with Shakespeare, decidedly naming all of her children after characters in his plays.

Embarrassing, yes, but it made our family uniquely odd.

Shivering again, I pressed my hands against my face to salvage whatever warmth I had left. Honestly, I felt like a corpse…

"Don't swear," Tybalt chastised, eyes kept on the road as we drove down the icy patches.

To retaliate, I stuck out my tongue and curled my body into a tight ball. Damn Puck for deciding to ruin the car not one week before I had to start high school…and conveniently, he had his friends pick him up in his no doubt cozy, warm car. I made a mental note of seeking revenge against him somehow. At times such as these, it made me heartily desire a little black book so that my troubles could be handled swiftly and without problem. I shook the grim thoughts of senseless anime out of my mind and looked back out the window, wrinkling.

A blanket of fog plagued the road ahead of us—so thick I could probably cut it with a knife—covering up the quant settings that surrounded us. The burly trees at the side of the road were barely visible, darkened in the gloom with an aura of mystery, and the charming buildings seemed to be devoured by the vapor. Honestly, was there just some giant fog machine out in the middle of the forest run by some old guy named Bob to constantly billow the vapor out into the small town? I probably wouldn't have minded so much if there were rays of sunshine to brighten the doom and gloom, but the sky was especially cloudy with a faint trace of rain. I groaned, burying my face deeper into my hands for both warmth and to conceal the look of agitation on my face. Having grown up in Minnesota, I was used to this kind of weather, but it didn't mean I liked it. Still, it was better than the humidity, which was just tortuous.

Releasing a groaning sigh, I uncurled myself and reached for the zebra-print bag lying at my feet, fumbling about for an umbrella.

It seemed that rain was going to become a common thing in Forks, and if we were going to be staying here I knew I would have to make the umbrella my must-need accessory. Even when we first arrived a week ago, just before summer ended, it had been raining cats and dogs. I had been to Washington once before, and it had been quite sunny and warm, so naturally I had taken it upon myself to wear shorts and a comfortable t-shirt. The _second_ I stepped out of the airport, I regretted my decision. If the weather was this bad in freaking September, I sure as hell did _not _want to see this Alfred Hitchcock wanna-be set during the winter season. Shuddering at the very thought, I sunk deeper into my chair and in my black trench coat and wrapped my pink-plaid scarf tighter around my face. I mentally sent waves of loathing toward Tybalt; he had spent the first two years of college in Alaska, so this type of weather was mere child's play compared to what he underwent.

I secretly envied him for his immunity to the bitter cold.

To be fair, I did gain some satisfaction out of his deep frown at the fog.

Rounding a corner, our bronze-brown van turned into the parking lot of what I assumed to be the school. The GPS, who I affectionately dubbed Hal, confirmed our location and became silent.

"Thanks, Hal," I cooed, patting the top of the rectangular electronic object.

Lifting my eyes, I studied my new learning environment. Almost instantly, what little hope I had for the place faded into the oblivion, left with nothing but hollowness in the pit of my stomach. The building was nothing special; a bland brick square with large windows and a bunch of bored looking students entering through the front door. Even as we pulled up in front of the establishment, I could already imagine the hours to follow. There was nothing special about it—well, come to think of there was nothing special about Forks, period—that could inspire one of my future mini-films. The video camera I had brought along with me suddenly seemed heavy in my satchel. There went my plans for an epic horror film revolving around the lives of a bunch of Carrie-like misfits. But then again, the morning was still young. And as the old proverb went, "Never judge a book by its cover."

Besides, I had to remain optimistic, for the sake of Tybalt. This move meant a lot to him, and I didn't want to ruin it all when we hadn't even been here a full seven days yet; I had already messed up the preparation for the movers (long story). Forcing a smile, I exhaled. While the outside of the school was really ordinary, maybe the inside would offer something to look at. The hollowness now filled with newfound hope, I swallowed what little nervousness that had been plaguing at my mind all morning and sighed heavily. _Think happy thoughts…think happy thoughts…think happy thoughts…_

Parking in front of the school, he exhaled. "Okay," he said, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. "Have a good day of school, sis."

Judging by how his normally steady tone cracked, it was seemingly obvious he was quite nervous; he had a job interview in less than an hour, and plainly wanted to get to it without any delay. This meant no sentimental farewells on my first day in the new school, but I really didn't mind. I was used to this standard drop-off without so much as a smile. It was how life was in my oddball family. Pulling my bag over my shoulder, I warmed my hands once more and plowed out into the misty fog. Instantly my body was attacked with chills that rippled down my spine in a tingly way, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Gah, it was freezing! Lunging forward with lacking grace, I shoved passed some of my fellow students (they seemed to have adapted to this abnormal wet-coldness) and made a beeline toward the door.

Even from where I was, I could hear Tybalt laughing. Well, at least I made him crack a smile before he returned back to his normal stoic-riddled expression. The cold seemed to be nipping at my heels like a puppy. I ran into the building as though there were a hoard of zombies behind me, my legs ever moving and my breathing labored as I was hit with a blast of warm air. Thank God for that. Some of the students were staring at me as though I were a rabid bunny—curious, yet somewhat disgruntled. Offering friendly smiles, I regained my composure and summoned up what little dignity I had left. Walking with forced causality, I fumbled through my purse; Tybalt had given me my schedule early on, since he was associated with one of the teachers.

First class; history…yippee-freaking-doo…

I had never really been one for history, as I was more focused on the future. Why worry about what some old guys said hundreds of years ago when there was plans and preparations to be made for our future? Who knows, maybe there would be flying cars, robots, and talking dogs. Already I could imagine myself, sitting in the director's chair of a large motion picture, giving out orders and basking in the glow of the stage-lights…perhaps I would have a trusty dog sidekick who could talk. I laughed silently at the absurdity of it all; but still, I enjoyed the little trips into la-la land when I could…meaning about sixty percent of the day, on average.

Yeah, I was a dreamer…I'm not denying it.

The thoughts filled my mind, allowing me to briefly forget my nerves, but as a result I sort of lost track of where I was going and bumped into a tightly knit group of teenagers. I stumbled, heat rushing up my neck, and immediately worked on an apology. My zebra satchel slipped from my shoulder in my moment of dazed shock, falling flat on the petite foot of a fair-skinned girl. She snarled, not in pain, but in anger. Hastily, I snatched it up, and lowering my gaze, I shyly eluded eye contact and made my way around them.

Damn! I really need to tame my wild imagination a bit; otherwise talking dogs may be the cause of my constant bumping into people like a brainless zombie. I faintly heard a rumbling chuckle from the group I had bumped into, but I was too flustered to regard it. Really? I had to bump into a random group on my first day? Just like Tybalt said, I always had my head stuck in the clouds, and as of such I was constantly dream-walking. Again, I don't deny it, but still! I think I have the right to daydream whenever I _please_.

I surveyed the area, pulled from my thoughts as I nearly bumped into another group—_again!—_and made my way down the long row of lockers. I needed to find mine so I could put a few things always, and, of course, add my locker décor. A few of the students were eyeing me curiously, exchanging looks and whispers. Since Forks was so small, news traveled very fast, and everyone seemed to know each other. I was probably an outcast in their eyes, with possible redemption. I smiled politely, occasionally greeting those who decided to take it upon themselves to be the welcoming committee. They practically pounced at me, launching for my hand and bombarding me with a blur of names and faces.

Finally I found my locker; it was at the end cap of a long row, slightly small but what wasn't tiny in Forks? Opening it up, I shoved some of my books inside carelessly. I had never really organized—hell, my room looked like a twister had passed through—unlike my uptight brother, who just had to everything in tip-top shape. As soon as the books were taken care of, I pulled out a zebra-lined mirror (I may or may not have an obsession with zebras) and put it on the door of the locker, followed by several pictures of my friends from other places I've been and a few postcards I've collected over the years.

Minnesota, Alaska, Boston, DC, Colorado, and so on…

"_Hello_!" a voice shrieked in my ear.

I jumped in surprise. "Uh…hi," I managed, uncomfortable, as I was flocked by a set of four fellow classmates.

The girl who had shouted in my ear, with lime green eyes and straight sunflower hair, squealed in delight. She was very pretty, with dainty features like made her almost look angelic, and was unbelievably short, barely hitting the five-foot mark. "Welcome to Forks High School," she said in a high-pitched soprano, extending her perfectly manicured hand for mine. "I'm Monique Parker, captain of the cheer squad and girlfriend of the student body president." She flicked her slender wrist toward the tall guy next to her. "This is Neil Jones."

A, stereotypical dumb-as-bricks blonde cheerleader and a bulky jock in a football jersey…clearly, this school wasn't going to offer any surprises.

He waved. He was outlandishly tall, towering over his girlfriend like an elephant to a mouse, with messy dark curls with thick jell and a Spartan football jersey. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his free arm was draped over his girlfriend's petite shoulder. His light brown eyes seemed to rove over my form in a way that made me want to slap him upside the face. I wasn't clad in anything that would really draw in attention—black trench coat, pink plaid scarf, jeans, and knee high-boots—and certainly wasn't revealing. I secretly hoped that Monique would catch her boyfriend's wandering gaze, but she was too absorbed in introducing me to the other two.

"This is Angela Webber, school newspaper photographer"—as if on cue, she whipped out a camera and took my picture—"and this is her boyfriend, Eric Yorkie."

"Nice to meet you," I said kindly, adjusting the strap on my bag.

"You're Ophelia Thorne, right?" Angela inquired, fiddling with the camera in her hands.

I sank back into my shoulders a little bit, heat rushing up my neck. Oh, how I absolutely despised my mother's strange fetish for Shakespeare…why, oh, why did she have to name all four of her kids after his characters? And why did she name me after the tragic Ophelia who drowned in a river after realizing Hamlet wasn't in love with her? Was she predicting my future? Was there some cruel irony hidden somewhere in there? Resisting a glower, I shook my head. "Just Lily," I said, referring to my middle name.

To be fair, Ophelia wasn't nearly as bad as Tybalt or Puck…it could've been worse, considering all the bizarre names of Shakespeare…

Hell, I could have been cursed for all eternity with a name like Hippolyta…unfortunately, that name befell my poor little sister.

"Ooh, are you going to join the Drama Club?" Monique asked in an overly bubbly voice. "With a name like that, you could get in with a _snap_." She made an attempt to snap her fingers for affect, ultimately failing and resuming her ceaseless ramble about just how awesome it would be if I either joined the cheer squad or something I couldn't quite pick out. She talked like the Road Runner on a sugar rush.

I shrugged uncertainly. "Um, maybe."

Since I wanted to get into film-school, maybe working at the drama club would better my chances.

"Oh! How many people have you met?" she asked abruptly, a look on her face.

I shrugged again, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

"Oh…my…God…," Monique gasped. "Have you seen the Cullens family yet?"

I shrugged again.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, and I went through my mind to recover any information I may have heard. Tybalt mentioned something about taking Hippolyta—we call her Lyta, for the sake of her sanity—to the hospital to take care of her broken wrist (Puck decided that his baseball could be used for more than just breaking the damn car) and that he had been scheduled with someone called Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Was he connected to this family Monique was mentioning?

She batted her eyelashes eagerly, and I couldn't help but wonder what was so important about this Cullen family. Were they big-names in the small town of Forks? Were they like a mafia or something? If so, this offered some hope that the town may actually provide some entertainment; maybe this Carlisle would be an Al Pacino of sorts. I pursed my lips, shooing away a smile that twitched at my lips at the silly little thought. I hadn't been here for ten minutes and already I was finding my head stuck in the clouds. Maybe Tybalt was right; I'd have to work on keeping my feet set firmly on the ground, especially when in conversation. This would prove to be quite difficult.

"No," I said, shutting my locker and leaning against it. They were still staring at me like I was a rare curio among coal; was this how they always reacted to newcomers? Was I the shiny new toy in a school full of children?

Monique gasped again, hand over her head to highlight her horror. "Are you s_erious_?" she squeaked, exchanging looks with Angela. "Oh, my dear Lily, you have not lived."

Okay, so were the Cullens gods among men? What was the big deal? In my past schools, the student body hyped of a handful of students who stood out for either being geeky or cool; it seemed that whoever this Cullens were had received an overdose of pure awesome. Weird—no, very weird.

I shrugged again, furrowing my brow. "Uh, should I know them?"

"Hell yeah you should," Monique said, tsking. "They're freaking sex-gods."

"Um," was all I said.

Angela, no doubt sensing my distress, said, "Hey, do you want me to introduce you to some of my friends?"

I offered her a thankful look. "Sure."

Monique pouted, leaning against her burly boyfriend. "I think I should meet up with the girls," she said with a rueful sigh. "It was really great meeting you, Lily. Don't forget to introduce her to the Cullens, Angie." She winked to prove her point.

Angela smirked tentatively, and, looping my arm through hers, she guided me away from the bubbly cheerleader and her still-leering boyfriend with Eric flanking our heels. She didn't speak for a long minute, waiting until Monique and Neil were out of earshot before she began a drone of apologizes on behalf of the leering jackass and the overly hyper blonde.

"Sorry about them," she said. "Monique just gets…overly eccentric sometimes. Don't worry, though, she calms down."

Eric snorted.

"Monique's fine," I said. "It's just Jones I'm going to have a problem with."

"He's a douche," Eric said bluntly, opening up a notebook from his bag and looking at me expectantly.

Did he want to interview me...? Weird.

"Okay, so what's the big deal with the Cullens?" I asked, drawing the attention away from moi.

Angela giggled. "Oh, Monique asked out every single one of the boys and they all rejected her," she explained, "and since then she's been obsessed with them. It's sort of unhealthy."

I nodded.

Noticing she had mistaken my question, she gave me the information behind the Cullens. Apparently they were some family who came here a few years ago from Alaska—an odd bunch by the sounds of it. Dr. Carlisle adopted several children into his family despite being only in his late twenties or early thirties and is the husband of a woman named Esme (two of the kids are her niece and nephew). As she drawled on about them, I could only blink and nod from time to time.

They sounded interesting, I supposed. But I would have to see them myself before I gave my final verdict on the subject.

"They left for a little while," Angela added after a moments thought, "but they came back after a few months."

"Why'd they leave?" I queried. I could guess why; the weather was atrociously bland and the town was seemingly dull. While I liked the idea in staying in one place for longer than one year, I would have preferred if it was somewhere less…blah.

She shrugged uncertainly, shyly lowering her gaze to the floor.

Eric stepped into the conversation, shaking his head. "Not sure," he sighed. "They were kinda vague, and Bella wouldn't give us any information."

"Who's Bella?" I asked confusedly.

I felt left on an inside joke.

Before they could answer, they spotted a group standing around a poster board and charged at them at an alarming rate, dragging me along with them. It seemed, whether I liked it or not, I was being recruited in their little clique. I felt like a sheep being herded; no control, no awareness, and positively confused as to what was going on. I allowed myself to be taken by them, as I really didn't have anywhere else to go. Besides, Tybalt had insisted that I at least try to make friends at this school—we had a higher chance of not moving anytime soon this time—and while I wasn't very skilled in that art, it seemed I didn't have to be. All I had to do was just stand there and all of a sudden I became absorbed.

I idly wondered if Lyta or Puck were having any trouble making friends in their new schools, and if everything was going well.

They were probably fine, but as their big sister I felt obligated to be worried about them. It was only natural.

"Get ready to be amazed," Eric said, laughing dryly.

Looking up, I regarded the group we were nearing. Instantly, my cheeks inflamed into a deep burgundy. Judging by how tightly knit they were this was the very same group I had bumped into earlier. I grimly recalled how I had dropped my heavy bag on the foot of that cranky chick I refused to meet eyes with, and hoped against odds that they had forgotten about that. But considering this happened a few minutes ago, the odds weren't exactly in my favor. Still, I kept my gaze high and pretended this was the first I had ever seen them.

Eric stepped ahead of us, waving. "Hey, Newton! Jessica! Bella!" he called.

A petite curly-haired girl turned, her eyes flashing.

The guy—was he related to Monique?—beside her grinned, waving at his friends and eyeing me with curiosity, not in the provocative way Monique's precious boyfriend had earlier. The two were standing close to the classy-looking group leaning against the wall, having been chatting away before they noticed us. The girl, Jessica, nudged a rather plain-looking brunette leaning against a bronze-haired guy, jerking her head towards us. The group turned curiously. Instantly I felt my heartbeat stop, and my stomach began to do summersaults inside of me. They were _gorgeous_.

Okay, maybe Monique hadn't been exaggerating about them.

There were five of them—not adding the plain-looking chick standing next to a bronze-haired god—standing close to one another as though they were a fighting force. Each one looked distinctive, but they were all supernaturally beautiful; angular features, alabaster skin, and the strangest golden eyes I'd ever seen in my life. At first glance I thought they were siblings, but looking closely they looked unbelievably different from one another. The only similarities were the fact they were all cover-art worthy and the odd eyes. I took in their appearances, though that was unneeded. They were unforgettable, so there was no need to make any mental notes.

"Hey," Angela said, fiddling with the camera around her neck. "Guys, this is the new girl, Lily Thorne."

I waved awkwardly, wanting to pry my eyes away from the godlike beings but found myself unable. "Hi."

"This is my good friend," she went on, gesturing toward the girl with dark ringlets. "Jessica Stanley."

She grinned, shaking my hand. "This is my boyfriend," she said, pointing to the guy beside her, "Mike Newton."

"Pleasure," I said, frowning. "Um, do you happen to have a connection to Monique Newton?"

Mike quirked his brow. "Yeah, she's my little sister."

Little sister? I prayed to God that this Mike character did not have the crazy, overly bubbly personality qualities that his sister had. Judging by how calm he was acting—for a boy, that is—he seemed to be relatively normal. Now that I was acquainted with these guys, my eyes traveled back to the pale-skinned godlike boys. I never really stared at boys that long, but for whatever reason I just couldn't tare my eyes away.

"These are the Cullens," Jessica said, noticing my gawking stare. I hadn't noticed before, but she had introduced the brunette, as well as offered the standard "welcome to Forks" speech, but I suppose I hadn't responded due to my sudden intrigue in this strange family. At least mine wasn't the only one, I thought with mild relief.

The bronze-haired boy—I think I'll name him Rusty—quirked his brow, draping his arm lovingly over the girl beside him. She was quite pale, with dark straight hair and chestnut eyes that were wide and curious as they looked at me. Her attire, much like her looks, were plain and didn't stand out amongst the crowd; she was a basic everyday student. No doubt she would be the silent type, shy and uncertain. Tyblat often said I could read into peoples' personalities like a book, and pick out certain things that made them distinctive. In fact, I also had the superpower of knowing when someone was lying; it's something that I inherited from my father.

Well, Puck dubbed it a superpower, but I just called it intuition.

"This is Bella Swan," Jessica said, pointing to the girl beside her; there was envy in her dark eyes. "Sherriff Swan's daughter."

"Sherriff?" I queried, thankful for the calmness in my tone. "Wow, I better watch what I do around here, then."

Mike laughed, and Jessica elbowed him in the ribs.

Bella blushed; a rose against snow. "Nice to meet you," she said, shaking my hand. "Um, this is Edward…my boyfriend."

Sigh…I guess I'd have to call him Edward instead of my new pet-name…ah, to hell with it, I'll call him Rusty anyway.

"I'm Alice!" a petite, pixie-like girl said, rushing forward and enveloping me in a tight hug. For such a short girl, she sure had a strong grip. Pulling away, she grinned broadly; she had delicate, childlike features that made her appear less human and more like a dainty fairy; her floral skirt swished around her legs, and she wore a coat around a white blouse. Her black hair was cropped absurdly short, but it seemed to suit her rather well. She was bouncing on the balls of her heels excitedly, cocking her head to the side. All in all, she looked like a fair princess of the flowers. The way she looked at me, it was as if we'd met before…as if we were childhood friends. Eh, maybe she's just friendly. "It's great to meet you, Ophelia."

I blushed deeply. It seemed I'd have to work fast in order to keep people from calling me by my official name. Damn my mother and her psychotic obsession with Shakespeare. Why couldn't she have become infatuated with something _normal_? I could have been named Lauren like my grandmother, something sensible, or even Priscilla! But no, I jut straddled with one of the most tragic Shakespearian characters. Now, if I could only find a way to persuade everyone to call me Lily instead of my _other _name. Unfortunately, since Forks was a small town, our identities would spread like wildfire. Even Alice and Monique knew. I hoped against odds that Tybalt would use our cover-up names (his was, of course, Ty professionally) and that they would catch on before people became used to calling us Tybalt, Ophelia, Puck, and Hippolyta.

"Uh, I prefer Lily," I said awkwardly.

Alice turned, ignoring me, and pointed to the couple leaning against the wall. "That's my brother, Emmett, and his girlfriend, Rosalie."

When I turned, I wanted to take a few steps back in intimidation. Holy crap-oh-monkey, that guy was _big_…large and muscular, he seemed to tower over everyone around him, but there was also a big goofy grin on his face. He ran a hand through his dark curly hair, casting me a look with his topaz eyes. "'Sup?" he said, nodding his head in greeting.

"Nothing much," I responded, grinning uncertainly at the playful charm in his voice.

Surely I wasn't the only one intimidated to be in the presence of a guy roughly the size of Mount Everest.

Rusty laughed, but quickly turned it into a cough. Bella looked up at him curiously, but he merely shrugged and pointed to his throat. Seeming unconvinced, she narrowed her eyes.

Odd.

Anyway, his girlfriend on the other hand had a constipated look on her face. She was, like all of them, ungodly beautiful; her golden curls fell around her shoulders, her hour-glass figure perfectly clad in a pair of tightly fitted jeans and an unbuttoned grey jacket revealing her turquoise shirt. Her makeup highlighted her angular features perfectly, and she looked like she was about ready for a photo shoot in Paris. However, I could tell instantly that I wasn't going to like her. There was a sour look on her face and a scowl creeping along as her eyes met mine. Burning hatred burned holes into me, and I resisted taking a step back. What did I ever do to her? Oh, right…I dropped a very heavy bag on her foot. But surely she won't hold that against me _forever_, right?

I thought back to my old school in Minnesota, when I had accidentally slammed my locker door into some poor girl's face. There hadn't been any physical damage or even a mark left behind, but she seemed to take it hard and had made it her life-goal to make my own life a living hell the remainder of the school year. Would this Rosalie be the same? With a sinking feeling, my answer seemed to come in a glowering scowl crossing her angelically demonic face. Oh, yippee…

"Nice to meet you, Rosalie," I said politely, hoping this would mend the odd hatred she suddenly had towards me. _Please don't be a narcissist who is absolutely determined to ruin my very existence while in Forks…please, please, please…_

She glowered in my direction, scowling up at Emmett when he nudged her in the forearm. "_Charmed_," she said, in a tone that indicated that I was a commoner and she the queen.

The hell? Was she seriously acting like this simply because I dropped my bag on her foot? It's not like I did any damage or anything…couldn't she just let bygones be bygones?

Then again, the searing glare from her amber eyes seemed to tell me otherwise. At least I know whose name I can scratch off on my possible friend list—in all honesty, I think I probably would had preferred Monique over this chick. Rusty chuckled, a deep throaty sound, and I sent him a curious look; he merely cocked his brow and looked down at the girl he was holding possessively close to him, who was equally as curious as I. Narrowing my eyes, I looked back over at the remaining Cullens family to be introduced to. Now, before I go into any detail, I should admit I did find Emmett—I think I'll call him CN, for Chuck Norris—and Rusty quite attractive. They were the types of guys girls only dreamed of in their wildest fantasies.

Would I date them if they were free? Maybe, if they actually had a personality outside of scowling like the blonde girl, Rosalie.

Now, that being said…

"This is Jasper Hale, Rosalie's brother," Eric said, smiling.

Brother to Rosalie? Oh, shit, that's going to be a sight.

I turned to regard him, reminded of the old proverb I was repeating over and over in my mind (don't judge a book by its cover, or in this case, evil twin sister). Again, I found CN and Rusty outlandishly attractive, but _this_…there were no words how to properly describe the guy leaning against the locker. I've never really been one to stare at guys—at this age, they're basically monkeys disguised as humans—but now I couldn't even blink away from him. His skin and eyes were like the rest of the group—suspicious?—but he stood out among all of them, at least in my humble opinion. He had shaggy honey hair that fell around his topaz eyes, framing his perfectly sculptured face. He was tall, like the rest, with a lean build—basically between the fine line that CN and Rusty were at—and decent muscles. He was dressed up in jeans, a casual blazer, and…

I blushed deeply, shaking the thoughts from my mind and smiled politely. No, no, no, no, no…I could not let myself become so infatuated with a boy I just met; especially considering the fact it was my first day of school. The last thing I needed was a distraction away from studies…yeah, I would have to keep telling myself that. Hmm, maybe I'd write a reminder note when I got back home and stick it to my forehead when I go to bed, so I needn't forget. "Hi, Jasper," I said courteously.

"Hello, Miss Thorne," he said politely, his voice laced with a hint of Southern drawl.

Oh, gosh, please no…If I had one weakness, then it was a southern accent. Maybe it all began when I saw Josh Holloway as Sawyer on _Lost_, later transcending to Daryl from _The Walking Dead_…swoon, what isn't really hot about a shirtless man walking out of the ocean with the sun gleaming down on his muscular body? I amused myself with the brief image of Jasper being the one walking out of the sapphire ocean, water dripping from his pale form…Whoa, girl! Again I shook the thoughts from my mind; I was being too creepy. Anyway, I didn't want a romantic relationship, but maybe we could be friends or at least the two teens who nod when they pass each other in the hallway but never really talk. Better than nothing, right?

"You don't have to be so formal," I said, rolling my eyes, and playfully slapping his forearm.

"Very well, then," he said courteously, yet tightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ophelia."

I sighed irritably. Yup; I was definitely going to have to work fast to keep that freaking name far away from my ears. "It's not Ophelia," I said. "You can just call me Lily."

"But why?" he asked, smiling despite the sudden tightness on his features and posture. "Ophelia is such a fine name, that I dare not drop a single syllable."

Alice laughed, nudging him in the ribcage. He stiffened again, inhaling deeply and holding his breath for an absurdly long period of time. No one seemed to notice, because they were eyeing my rising blush with raised brows. I opened my mouth, but thank the heavenly God above, the bell went off and class was beginning. Eric and Mike scattered off, Angela snapped one last picture and skipped shyly away, and Jessica snatched tightly to my wrist, her grin broad.

"Which class do you have?" she said, over her jealousy.

"Uh, History?" I said uncertainly.

Jessica's beam grew and she snatched Bella. "Sorry, Cullen," she said to Edward, who was scowling at having had his girlfriend stripped from him, "but we ladies need to get to class. Bye-bye!" She winked flirtatiously before dragging as with surprising strength. Once out of earshot, she whispered, "Oh my God…did you _see_ how Jasper was looking at you?"

I resisted the urge to peer over my shoulder, instead allowing myself to be consumed by the thick crowd. "Yeah, so?"

"He _never _looks at anyone that way," Jessica insisted, looping her arms through ours like we were about to go skipping down the Yellow Brick Road. "Right, Bella?"

Bella hesitated, lowering her chocolaty eyes to the floor. She was like a rag-doll being dragged by a child, slightly limp; did this always happen when she was separated from her ultra sexy boyfriend? Come to think of it, if I had someone like Rusty for my boy toy I would probably be the same way, only kicking and screaming. "Yes," she said after a little pause, nodding. "I've never really seen Jasper talk to girls like that before—"

"_Not to mention_," Jessica added, "he was looking at you like he wanted to eat you _up_."

There was a hint of envy in her bubbly tone.

"Yeah, well," I sighed, feigning a broken heart, "I'm currently unavailable, so he's all yours."

She smirked. "Oh, believe me," she said earnestly. "Unfortunately, he doesn't really seem keen on dating…"

Like I said earlier, I was absolutely in no position to open up my heart to a complete stranger, despite the fact we'd probably be sharing classes. I had already gone through a bad boy experience, and I didn't want to relieve those moments, no matter how appealing he was to the eye. Maybe I'd just admire him from a far like a psycho stalker and occasionally snoop around his FaceBook, if he even had one. Besides, Tybalt would never allow me to start up a relationship that could very easily end at a simple call. It was like he said, we could never really adapt to our surroundings; we had to be ever at the ready should things go awry for his job and result in yet another move. Forks was just another place to checkmark off of the map.

However, as I felt Jessica's grip tighten and her ceaseless chatter falling deaf on my ears, I couldn't help but find myself smiling. I don't know why, but I could imagine staying here for as long as need be, maybe even after I graduated if we're lucky. We never stayed anywhere for more than two years, but perhaps things would go well here, and that he would get that job he's been pining for. We rounded a corner and stepped into the classroom. Jessica released her hold on our arms and skipped off toward the desk beside Mike, waving at us in a way that clearly read 'we'll get together after class'. I nodded and sat down at a random desk.

History began, and I settled into la-la land. We were learning about the Civil War—one of the few parts in history that actually intrigued me—but of course the teacher couldn't have been more dull, so I merely rested my chin in my hand and pretended to be listening intently. All around me, students were listening, doodling, or closing their eyes for a quick nap. Bella was watching carefully, but I could see how her gaze settled on Edward every time he would look at her. Young love; how sweet. A few boys were eyeing me out with interest; I had taken off my jacket, revealing my blue lacy top over a black tank. I ignored their stares, as romance was the last thing I wanted. Maybe I'd indulge them after a month or two, but as of now they were just annoying bugs buzzing in my ears.

But as I felt a pair of eyes burning in the back of my neck—I didn't have to turn to know—I began to think otherwise.

A spitball hit the back of my head—_ew_—and I glowered in the direction of its launching; Neil was winking at me, his girlfriend obliviously gawking at him as though she were the target of his affections. Could she really not see him launching random spitballs, or did she simply not care? Well, I didn't, that was for sure. He pursed his eyes and eyed me in a way that made me want to gauge his eyes out with a fork. I growled quietly, narrowing my eyes before turning back in my seta. Hopefully this jackass would get the hint and stay far away from me; I absolutely did not want a relationship, especially with someone like him. I let out a huffing sigh. He had only just met me, and already he was hell bent to get my attention? Gah, men are complete idiots.

Turning the pages in my book as the teacher commanded, I hoped my glower would give him the hint I was not interested. Then again, I had seen men as stubborn as bulls before, and I could still feel the tingly leering feeling as it roved over me. If he kept this up, then I would most definitely have to find a fork—a very large and sharp one—and pursue my morbid plan of action. Suddenly I felt Neil's gaze move away from me, and I breathed a sigh of deep relief. A moment later, I noticed the pleasurable burning sensation had faded, and I looked over my shoulder curiously. Jasper was glowering at the dumbass football play with fierceness—Rusty nudged his shoulder with a snicker—and his dark eyes—

_Wait_…

_Dark _eyes? I turned my head, subtly examining him from the corner of my eye. His eyes were amber, a warm soothing color like melted caramel, but now they had darkened into onyx black as though someone had put food coloring in them. How was this possible? Did he put in contact lenses on the way to class? That was the only rational thing I could come up with, but they had been here even before we were, so he wouldn't have found the time… I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply. That was the only thing that could possibly add up, but something was off about it. I had worn black contacts before—a friend of mine asked me to play a dark spirit in one of her films—and while it looked realistic, everyone was always able to tell it was contacts. But as I stared into the inky blackness, I could find so sign of colored contact lenses.

His pupils seemed to melt into it, creating a pair of dark orbs that sent little frightful shivers down my spine.

Hella weird.

Rusty cleared his throat, casting a cautious glance toward his foster brother.

Well this was certainly discomforting.

"Miss Thorne."

I looked up at our teacher, who was scowling deeply.

"Uh, yes, sir?"

"Please answer my question."

Shit.

While I was zoned out, contemplating the sudden black eyes, he must have started his standard interrogation of the class. It seemed I was his first victim, since his finger was on the first question on his clipboard and the students were eyeing me expectantly. Damn my ability to zone things out. I cleared my throat, stalling for time. "Uh," I said, pretending to be deep in thought. "Can you repeat the question, Mister…" I paused, realizing I did not know his last name. Great. "…Teacher-Guy?"

His stare hardened. "Miss Thorne, were you even paying attention?" he asked.

_To your class, no…to the oddities of Jasper Hale, yes…_

In the back of the class, I could hear a faint laugh. It was not mocking or cruel, but rather understandably amused. From the corner of my eye, I saw it was Rusty.

"Yes, sir," I said carefully. "I was paying _very_ close attention."

The burning tingle returned, and I shivered.

Maybe this school wasn't going to be as bland as I expected.

* * *

**First chapter of "Water Lily". I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :) I sincerly apologize for the unsubtle Shakespeare related names, but I couldn't help it. I'm a Shakespeare nut myself (my favorite play is "Hamlet", cliche as it sounds) and I couldn't resist the idea of naming the Thorne family after my favorite characters. :) Please to review your thoughts! ~ttfn~**


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